RE: Feral Twilight (PG-13/Chapter Two up; Fakedex/Twilights List updated: 9/21/2010)
Zyflair and CH are probably going to kill me for doing things this way, but I’m struggling so much with this chapter, I really have to know just how bad it is before I can finish writing it…
(preview) III-No Country for Old Men
“Two entities whom never should have met,” spoke the voice of a man throughout the semi-darkened plane of Nostalgia, “Cross paths in the Space-Time Rift, their strife tears at the very boundaries of Leyi Quofyi, damaging the physical realm beyond even Golbania’s power to mitigate.”
Slowly the silhouette of a wolf’s head materialized, basically floating at least eight feet above the lavender tiles that paved the entire field. The creature’s visage was as black as coal, and his eyes were bloodshot amber. He possessed exceedingly sharp teeth, all virtual daggers polished scarlet by the blood of countless victims he’d consumed in ages past. Around his neck, the beast wore an extravagant choker forged of solid gold with iron rims at its top and bottom as well as streaks of silver that crisscrossed each other throughout the collar’s inner portion. He also bared a golden crest upon his brow, which extended up past his ears that in turn were adorned with five earrings apiece.
“Brothers born unto Arceus, that b*stard child of Watcher Humility. Neither aware of their heritage, and never to know of my claims on their souls… That is, until now.”
“What is it you wish of me, My Liege?” the voice of another man inquired from behind him.
A pitch-black phantom slowly emerged from the floor alongside of the beast. His shape crudely humanlike, the specter was little more than a torso with scrawny arms and a squat head. Wavering wisps flowed from his shoulders and ash-white locks whipped backwards from his scalp. Glancing over his jagged red collar, Darkrai looked upon his master with unusual pleasure.
One of the wolf’s paws emerged from his transparent mane, an enormous foot with long blood-red claws and a silver anklet decorated with gold studs. Suddenly a surge of terror overwhelmed the specter, and he withdrew somewhat behind the beast.
“Yi cu-seth lyi qual,” his master reprimanded, the area quaking after each word. As I speak, your voice is treason.
They stopped for a moment. As silence set in, the canine gazed around and then skyward.
“For eons I have been imprisoned here, watching all that transpires throughout the multiverse via memories… My hatred has long since waned, and now I wonder what will become of this domain should I leave it once again.”
“Your Majesty? I…I don’t under…”
The wolf’s ear twitched and he continued, “And that is why I need your assistance. As you know, I am not of a mind to forgive treason especially when it opposes the interests of Watcher Chastity, such as your one attempt to destroy Dialga’s Temporal Tower and disrupt Palkia’s control over space in that world of the distant future…”
“My King, again I apologize for…” His lord glared at him, and the wraith back away again.
“However, this opportunity is far too great to pass up. As we speak, the Traitors move evermore into position, drawn to Chastity’s last emergence point as if insects to an open flame. My emissary is poising himself to strike them the moment they appear, and then open a passage for me through the Nexus. Yet one thing remains unchecked.”
“And that would be?”
“The abomination… For over twenty years, an ungodly monster has existed outside of my reach. Should Dialga, Palkia, or Arceus merge with it, my potential reign over them will vanish forever… Thus, it must be eliminated.”
“Consider it done, My Liege,” Darkrai bowed.
“And, Darkrai,” the beast stated, more solemnly, “Should My Memories fade…”
“Understood, Milord!” The phantom finally vanished.
Once he’d gone, the beast looked skyward once more and uttered, “Woe unto them…for they have gone the way of Cain.”
______________________________________________________________________________
The ferry to Maritide seemed packed this morning by the time I got to the port. Pulling onto the boat’s rear, a middle-aged man guided me to a spot between a silver PT Cruiser and a sky-blue Grand Marquis. Like most employees of the Mouranx Cruise Lines, Inc., he wore the company’s signature uniform of a lime green vest with a small ship embroidered on the right shoulder, matching cap, white shirt, and black pants.
“Alright, sir. Stop!” he commanded when my truck’s hood was nearly on top of him.
I slammed on the brake, and Spunky fell forward. While he grumbled, I exited the trunk and went to the cargo area in its rear.
Right behind the cab sat a five-gallon cooler tied to the side with a couple bungee straps. Inside it, I had several Glad containers filled with different types of meat cutlets and fillets. Grabbing three that had beef in them and one that contained fish, I closed the lid and opened the back door to let Spunky out.
Quickly I found an old Wal-mart bag on the floor, put my Pokémon’s food in it, and locked up the vehicle. Finally we headed for the stairwell up to the next deck, weaving between random cars in the process.
Most visitors to Ronac found the region’s ferries a little bit odd due to their designs. Ones from Pawford to the nearby islands had three main levels: the lowest, of course, being for cars; the middle one was a leisure deck with a café, restrooms, and seating for passengers; and the highest strictly for the wheelhouse and crew. Atop the third one, however, existed a small arena for friendly Pokémon battles. The rules for its usage were so unbelievably restrictive that it was basically a joke. Pokémon weighing over three hundred pounds and any attacks capable of causing collateral damage could never be used, not to mention that only one-on-one battles were allowed.
When I reached the stairs, I opened the door for Spunky and followed him up. Once on the salon deck, the two of us stopped and looked it over. Round tables had been set out in virtual rectangles of four-by-six from the front of the ship to the end of the covered area and at least sixty people were on-board this morning. Not much of a surprise since the ship could easily handle up to 150 passengers or more.
“Loop?” Spunky queried, whipping his head around. Then he barked loudly.
“D*mn it, Spunky!” I scolded him before turning to see what startled him.
For a moment, I felt a little dazed at the sight I beheld. A husky six-foot-tall man dressed in a friar’s cloak stood just a few feet behind me, gazing me straight in the eye with a solemn look too. The garb appeared to be made from heavy gray material, wool perhaps, and draped over his entire form kind of loosely. Around his waist there was a thick rope keeping the robe somewhat tight to his body. But his hood was pulled over his head and a black cloth covered his mouth and nose, leaving only his deep amber eyes visible.
“Pardon me, um… Father? Or Brother?” I told him uncertainly. He folded his arms together and then bowed respectfully.
Backing away, I continued, “Spunky, let him pass.”
“Poodle? Loop…” he grumbled, stepping back. The monk motioned forward, and headed towards the veranda.
The wolf started to bark again when I whispered, “Show some respect.”
“So, like I said, as soon as we get to Maritide, I’ll be heading straight for the facility,” an Irishman spoke as he exited the staircase after the monk.
I turned to the guy to see that he too was a robust fellow, a little bit shorter than the last man. Oddly enough, the middle-aged man with graying black hair had a build similar to that of a bear, evident with how his dark blue shirt that had a silk-screen print of three Vaporeon across its front appeared to be ripping at the seams because of his bulging muscles. The rest of his attire, though, looked a bit offsetting with a pitch-black pair of shades, dark pants that seemed more appropriate for a business suit, tan leather shoes, and a Rolex on his left wrist.
“Well, I don’t give a rat’s a*s as to what Cleo wants. Are ya hearing me?” he burst as he turned towards the holy man. I noticed a Bluetooth in his right ear and that another Vaporeon was tattooed onto his shoulder.
“D*mn! Why don’t they wait up when I tell them?” a youth barked from downstairs after the second man left.
A few seconds later, the third guy emerged. Unlike the previous man, he looked a lot closer to my age and almost as tall as me too. He wore a black sleeveless shirt, blue-jean shorts that had been cut off at the knees, blue socks, and gray shoes. Also the kid appeared to have a thing for snakes, judging by the Ekans tattoo that wrapped itself around his left arm, disappeared on the back of his shoulder, and then reappeared down his right arm as well as the picture of four pale serpents with varying markings on their faces was visible on the back of his shirt as he passed.
Spunky and I watched as the three headed outside and around the corner, climbing the stairs to the battle deck. After a moment, I shrugged and went over to the café.
At the counter, a young black woman dressed in the same getup as the man who guided me onboard cracked a modest grin and greeted me with, “Good morning, sir! How may I help you?”
“A Dr. Pepper, please.”
“Alright,” she said with a cute wink.
While she reached for a cup under the table, I looked back at Spunky and called, “Well?”
“Poodle!” he sneezed, approaching with his head down as if he were being punished.
“Stubborn dog, huh?”
“Oh, yeah. Not as bad as another one of my Pokémon, though.” I returned my gaze to the girl to see her filling my drink.
“Yeah, but how many monks do you really see around here? Nuns, yeah, but mostly at church.”
“Yeah, never been much of a churchgoer myself. My parents are into it somewhat but not me.”
“Who is, anymore? Worst part is that most groups just have to keep pushing it.” She turned to me and put the forty-four-ounce drink on the stand with a straw.
“Don’t blame them, but they do get way too obsessive,” I said, reaching for my wallet.
“That’ll be $1.25.”
I set two bucks on the counter and grabbed my beverage. She took my money, press a button on the adjacent cash register, and gave me back three quarters. Nodding I headed out onto the deck’s veranda with Spunky closely at my side.
Outside there were several more tables like those inside positioned right up against the ledge. Taking the closest one I could find, I sat down, setting my bag and drink down in front of me. Spunky squatted next to me and stared longingly at the food canisters as I took them out.
“Here!” Opening a beef-filled one, I put it in front of him and he wolfed it down like nothing.
While he ate, I took out Orion and Apollo’s balls, opening them both right away. Spunky seemed too distracted to notice the eight-foot-tall ermine looming over him and drooling, nor the glowering skunk holding his staff at the ready position.
“About d*mn time,” Orion said, swiping another of the beef containers and walking around to the seat across from me.
“Finally!” Apollo screamed telepathically. The ferret immediately levitated the remaining box of meat overhead and forced it open with his psychic power. Afterwards, he emptied its contents and held the cutlets over his open maw. Then I could hear the sound of the meat sizzling as he cooked it with his pyrokinesis and watched the juices as they dripped into his mouth.
Orion snorted at the ermine as he sat down, commenting, “Can’t eat it raw?” The morsels finally dropped into Apollo’s mouth one at a time and he ate them.
“Orion?” I asked the huntsman.
“What?” he barked, dropping his staff on the floor and clawing his food box open.
“Um. Nothing…” No point in asking him anything when he hadn’t eaten since last night.
After eating a couple bites, the skunk grumbled, “You know what’s been bugging me lately?”
“Hmm?”
“Ermean?” Apollo asked, “What now?”
“Well, fighting that Destail a little bit ago really got me thinking. We need to get back in the game. I’m tired of just BSing around in the woods all the time like you guys love to do.”
Apollo grinned and then threw his head back in a full-on laugh. Spunky just sat there and stared at the weasel as he chuckled.
“Hey! I’m just telling it like it is!” Orion shouted before returning to his meal. He had a point…but then it wasn’t really like him to care what we accomplished during the day anyhow. The times in which he did ended when he evolved into a Skunanne, and oh how I longed for those days again. Back when he was still that childlike critter someone could just love and hold.
It must’ve been about thirteen years now since I first got Orion. It was around ten o’clock on Christmas morning. My family had finished cleaning up after unwrapping presents an hour beforehand and started preparing for the party we were going to have that afternoon. Mom and Grandma worked in the kitchen cooking, while my dad went downstairs to get liquor together. Meg and I sat alone in the living room watching cartoons on Nickelodeon.
The two of us were still dressed in our pajamas, not exactly ready for what the day was going to bring. Meg wore a hooded outfit that vaguely resembled like a Buneary; I had a two-piece suit with random pictures of baby Pokémon all over it. However, considering myself the victor of the day, I clung greedily to the big Raichu plushie that I’d received as a gift from ‘Santa Claus.’
Suddenly the doorbell rang. I remained seated quietly, much too preoccupied by the mindless antics of Rugrats to mind my mother’s first request to answer the door.
After it rang again, Mom called more harshly, “Jay, could you get that? It’s Felicia.”
“Who?” I asked but only to get no response.
I stood up and reluctantly headed to the front door. The bell rang again as I approached, grumbling about having to leave my show.
When I got to the entry, I grabbed the knob and the door swung open widely to give me the shock of my life. Wrapped in a heavy black coat as well as a matching muffler around her neck and earmuffs on her head, a giant brunette glowered at me with a criticizing pair of deep blue eyes. Or at least at the time, she looked like a giant looming over me at a height of five-ten.
A few moments passed before she finally blinked and whispered, “You are Jay, correct?” Her voice sounded as frigid as the air outside that winter. Then I moved aside as she strode in.
“Pity. A boy your age shouldn’t be cuddling stuffed Pokémon like an infant,” she continued, reaching in her left pocket.
“H-hey, I j-just…” I stuttered as the woman handed me a Poké Ball.
“Merry Christmas.” Afterwards Felicia went into the kitchen to chat with my mom.
Once she was out of sight, the sphere jiggled in my hand. I dropped it immediately and the orb popped open. From a flash of light a small quadruped emerged.
I didn’t know what to make of the creature at first. It looked like a cute enough mammal, barely a foot-and-a-half tall. He had silky black fur all over his body with a puffball of hair resting on the twin stripes that crept over his head and then down his back, as well as a pair of shimmering green eyes that were simply adorable. For the moment, he seemed to be grinning at me.
The skunk then hopped upright, almost as if he were a baby trying to stand for the first time. When he got his balance, the critter put one of his forepaws out.
“What? You want me to shake?” I asked him. He nodded and I shrugged.
Grabbing his paw, the Pokémon suddenly spoke, “Hi! I’m Orion!”
“What?” I muttered, suddenly scared and confused.
The Skunette closed both eyes and giggled, “I said, I’m Orion. What’s your name?”
“You…you can talk? No! That can’t be right… Pokémon can’t…” I stuttered as I broke into tears, feeling like part of a sick joke.
“No, don’t cry!” he then said, reaching out to hug me, “I’m friendly, see?”
Wrapping his small arms around me, I started to calm down. After a couple seconds, I did the same to him. Sadly, that was probably one of the few times in my life that he’d be honest about his feelings. In the time since, that same creature grew cold and somewhat distant, despite retaining just a shred of humanlike compassion from his infancy.
“Ermean!” I heard Apollo yelped in my right ear, followed quickly by a burning sensation caused by him pressing his ember-hot nose against the side of my neck.
“D*mn it, Apollo! What was that for?” I scolded him, snapping out of my daydream.
“Erm… Aside from you forgetting to feed Sheila, I think we might have company…” he whimpered.
“Dude! Those are some wicked sweet Pokémon ya got there,” the voice of a teenage boy commented from behind my Incinermyn.
“Mean…” the creature whined and then floated off to the side by Spunky. Well, Orion, it looks like you got your wish…just too bad I’m not in the mood for it…
Glancing up at the kid, I saw that he was a rather scrawny guy who looked to be about Meg’s age if not a bit younger. He couldn’t have been more than five-foot-six, even with the dark-green baseball cap he had on that actually seemed as though it were just sitting on top of his thick black locks instead of covering them up. Even with his face fresh shaven, his attire gave me more the impression that he as if he were someone trying to appear more thuggish than he really was; he had on a sleeveless leather jacket over a black AC/DC t-shirt as well as black overhauls with apparent patches in random spots on the legs.
“Sweet! You mind if I check their stats with my Pokédex?” the youth asked as he came up to me. Spunky and Apollo just looked at him awkwardly when he stopped in front of them. Orion just went back to his meal, what little was left of it.
“Knock yourself out, kid,” I calmly stated. If that’s all he wants to do, I’m not going to stop him.
Setting his backpack down, the guy reached into its main pocket and took out an electronic device reminiscent of a portable gaming device. Opening it, the punk pointed an iris on its side at Apollo, then Spunky, and lastly Orion.
“Whoa! Tough guys, aren’t ya?” he then complimented them, Apollo cracking a bit of grin while Spunky and Orion tried to look uninterested, “You must be a top-notch trainer then, huh?”
“Regional Champion, last year, kid. It’s old news. Didn’t hear about it then, you won’t now.” I took a long drink from my pop after that.
His jaw dropped a little and he slurred, “R-really? D*mn, that must’ve been awesome! I’d sure like to battle you, if you don’t mind.” Orion glanced at him, then at his tote bag and scoffed.
“Did the words ‘Regional Champion’ elude you, by any chance?” God, I’m really not in the mood for this right now…
“No, Jay, wait!” Orion bellowed out in a full laugh, “I want to see what pathetic excuse for Pokémon this kid’s got on him. Apollo can sense it, too, that they’re not that good. Right?” I slapped my hand against my forehead.
“Mean?” Apollo whined turning to face the guy, Please don’t mind him. He doesn’t know when to keep his mouth shut.
“Holy cr*p! I knew Skunter could talk, but you can use telekinesis?” the kid barked at my Incinermyn.
“Oh, Jesus Christ… Well, I guess now we don’t have a choice. What’s your name, kid?”
“I’m Chase. I’m on a journey here from the Hoenn Region,” he explained.
“Never been. Usually warm there, isn’t it?” I asked and he nodded in response, “Ronac’s a complete contrast. Wilderness everywhere and lots of snow in the winter.”
“Yeah, interesting climate you guys have here.”
“Listen. I still have to feed my Lapras, but after that we’ll join you on the battle deck. A three-on-three match okay by you?” Chase nodded, then picked up his bag, and headed for the stairwell to the highest level of the ferry. A few moments later, Orion finally finished his meal and I made him and Apollo return to their balls.
<End Chapter Three (preview)>
